Witness in Death

"That your former lover and the child you made together were intimate. They had a sexual affair that ended shortly before his death."

"Mother of God." Anja squeezed her eyes shut. "Is this the payment for a small sin committed so many years ago? You've disturbed me, Lieutenant." She opened her eyes again, and they were hard, glinting. "If that was your purpose, you've succeeded. Surely neither of them knew."

She rose, prowled the room. "She's young. Attractive?" she asked with a glance back at Eve.

"Yes. Very attractive."

"He would find her hard to resist. Would see no reason to resist. And he has always been able to lure women into bed."

"She might have lured him, knowing."

"What woman chooses to sleep with her own father?" Anja shot back. Her hands fisted, her body trembled once as she spun around. "Why would she have known? The files were sealed."

"Seals crack," Eve said mildly. "Any and all of the parties involved can request the file. Perhaps she was curious about who made her."

"I would have been informed if a request was made and granted. It is the law."

"Laws are broken. That's why I have a job. Draco might have opened the file himself."

At this, Anja merely laughed, a cold and brittle sound. "For what purpose? He had no interest whatsoever at the time. It's unlikely he remembered a child existed after all these years."

"There was a resemblance, Ms. Carvell. She has his coloring, the shape of his eyes, his jaw."

"So." She drew a breath, nodded, ordered herself to sit again. "He might have looked at her and seen himself. Might have," she murmured, toying with her button again. "Might have. Then taken her to his bed for some narcissistic thrill. I can't say. I can't tell you. Richard has become as much of a stranger to me as the young woman you speak of. I don't know them."

"Ke

Eve watched the realization and the horror bloom on Anja's face. Color rushed into her cheeks and just as quickly drained away again. "No. Whatever he knew or suspected, he wouldn't have turned to murder. I tell you, the violence of twenty-four years ago was an impulse, a rage of the moment. You said that the affair had ended. Before Richard was killed. Ke

"Maybe not. Maybe not without help. Where were you on the night of March twenty-fifth?"

"Ah. I see. I see," she repeated softly, and folded her hands. "I would have been at home. And quite alone."

"You saw no one, spoke to no one, during that evening?"

"Not that I recall. I have no proof that comes to mind that I was where I say I was."

"Your family, Ms. Carvell?"

"I have no one. I can only swear to you that I did not travel from Montreal to New York and conspire to cause Richard Draco's death." She rose. "Lieutenant, I believe at this point, I would like to consult an attorney. I have nothing more to say on any of these matters until I have done so."

"That's your right. Thank you for your cooperation. Record off, Peabody."

"Would you be so kind as to tell me which hospital is caring for Ke

"He's at Roosevelt." Eve got to her feet. "Your attorney, when you engage one, can reach me at Cop Central."

"Very well." Anja walked to the door, opened it. "Good day, Lieutenant." She said it quietly, closed the door, engaged the locks.

Then, covering her face with her hands, she let herself weep.

"Impressions, Peabody."

"She's cool, sophisticated, sure of herself. She either believes Stiles is i

Eve frowned through the windscreen as she slipped behind the wheel of her vehicle. "Should she?"

"Well, it just seems to me there should be some, you know, emotional co

"Why? She conceived, gestated, delivered. That's nine months out of her life. Where's the emotional co

"Because the baby grew inside her. She felt it kick and move around, and… I don't know, Dallas. I've never conceived, gestated, and delivered. I'm giving you my take, that's all."

Peabody shifted uneasily, feeling out of her depth. There was a darkness in the air, swirling around Eve. She didn't know what to make of it. She cut her eyes toward Eve, then away again. Eve was still staring out of the glass, brooding. "If she's giving it to us straight," Peabody ventured. "She placed the baby, then walked away. I just don't buy it could be as cut and dried, as easy as that. I thought you were leading toward her being in on the murder."

"I haven't discounted it." But she'd let something slip because her own emotions had been rattled. "Go back in, find out when Carvell registered, if she pre-booked, and when she's scheduled to leave."

"Right." With some relief, Peabody scurried out into the fresh air.

What sort of woman chooses to sleep with her own father?

Eve's stomach had been in knots since that question had been tossed at her. What if there is no choice? What then? She let her head fall back. There was another question: What sort of man chooses to sleep with his own daughter?

That was one she had the answer to. She knew that kind of man, and he still whispered his candy breath in her ear.

"What are you doing, little girl?"

The breath exploded out of her lungs. She sucked it greedily back in.

What about the mother? she asked herself and wiped her damp palms on the thighs of her trousers. What made a mother? She didn't believe it was the bulk of life stirring in the belly. Eve angled her head, looked up toward the windows where Anja Carvell sat with her pot of chocolate and her ghosts. No, she didn't believe it was as simple as that.

There was more. There had to be more.

Most rational, decent human beings would instinctively protect an infant, a helpless child. But the need to protect another adult stemmed from duty. Or love.

She straightened in her seat as Peabody climbed back in. "She checks out. Called in yesterday, after six, requested a reservation. She got into the hotel some time just before eight. She's scheduled to leave tomorrow, but arranged for an option to extend."

"Mother, father, devoted friend," Eve murmured. "Let's move on to child."

"Carly. We're going to go right by a couple 24/7s crossing town. Maybe we could stop and get some hot chocolate."

"That stuff they sell in those places is swill."

"Yeah, but it's chocolate swill." Peabody tried a pitiful, pleading look. "You wouldn't let her give us any of the good stuff."

"Maybe you'd like some cookies, too. Or little frosted cakes."

"That would be nice. Thanks for asking."

"That was sarcasm, Peabody."

"Yes, sir. I know. Responded in kind."

The easy laugh had the black cloud lifting. Because it did, Eve pulled over at a cross-street 24/7 and waited while Peabody ran in and loaded up.

"You know, I'm really trying to cut down on this stuff. But…" Peabody ripped into the pack of cookies. "Thing is, weird, McNab doesn't think I'm chubby. And when a guy sees you naked, he knows where the extra layers are."

"Peabody, do you have some delusion that I want to hear how McNab sees you naked?"

She crunched into a cookie. "I'm just saying. Anyway, you know we have sex, so you've probably reached the conclusion we're naked when we're having it. You being an ace detective and all."

"Peabody, in the chain of command, you may, on rare occasions and due to my astonishing good nature, respond to sarcasm with sarcasm. You are not permitted to lead with it. Give me a damn cookie."